Relicum
by Clara Barton
Summary: Seven years after the Mariemaia incident, Preventers Agent Trowa Barton finds himself assigned to an undercover mission with the least likely, and least welcome, partner he could imagine... Duo Maxwell.


**Warnings:** Language, sex (yaoi), violence, angst (not nearly as much as normal), canon compliant-ish. Set seven years Post-EW.

**Pairings:** 2x3 (NOT 1x2x3, just for the record), 2x?, 3x4, 4x?, 1x?, 5x? (Because I might get crazy).

**A/N:** Oh my god I know and I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry that this isn't a new chapter of _Revenant_, or _Without Virtue_, or _A Very Dark Corner_, or _Lost Dreams_, or _Deviant_ – or the first chapter of _Penumbra_ but listen: I was starting to depress even myself and I desperately need to write something funny and light (light-ish, mind you, because it's still _me_ writing it). So… I'm sorry.

But the next chapter of _Deviant_ is with my beta and the next chapter of _Lost Dreams_ is 75% complete, and I almost have the outline done for _Penumbra,_ and the next chapter of _Revenant_ is almost half-way finished. So… do not give up hope. I just really, _really_ needed to get away from all of the overwhelming darkness for a little while.

**A/N#2**: This chapter is a little short, but expect some length on the others.

**Relicum**

_Prologue_

"You will always be my best friend."

The words were delivered with such sincerity and sadness that Trowa actually found himself feeling badly for Quatre as the blonde man said them.

Until three seconds later, when he realized just what those words were leading to.

"You're breaking up with me."

Quatre's blue eyes were wet with unshed tears. Under any other circumstances, Trowa would be reaching across the table right now and grabbing the other man's hand to offer comfort. But under _these_ circumstances Trowa was just barely able to hold himself in check by gripping the arms of his chair.

His chair on the balcony of one of the most upscale restaurants in Brussels, where Quatre had insisted they have dinner at before he had to take a shuttle back to L4 later that night.  
Trowa should have had more situational awareness – he should have remembered that Quatre didn't like to back himself into corners and that the blonde mogul felt more comfortable and confident when surrounded by strangers than he ever did on his own.

The first time that Quatre had asked Trowa to kiss him had been at the end of a dinner very similar to this one, five years ago.

The first time that Quatre had invited Trowa over for sex had been during dinner at the most well-known restaurant in the L3 sector.

The first time that Quatre had decided to have an argument with Trowa – about his work, no less – he had taken Trowa to his favorite restaurant in London before attacking.

And now, Quatre was breaking up with him at the most expensive restaurant in Brussels.

"Don't say it like that," Quatre admonished him and Trowa raised an eyebrow at his patronizing tone.

"Then how do _you_ want to say it?" Trowa asked.

Quatre frowned, clearly not expecting Trowa to have an attitude about this.

Because, usually, Trowa simply accepted whatever Quatre wanted, because Trowa wanted to make Quatre happy, because Quatre made _Trowa_ happy. But this was _not_ the time to sit back and just accept Quatre's words.

"I just think that our lives, at this moment in time, are moving in very different directions."

Trowa sighed.

"This is about the Preventers."

"No. Yes – sort of."

It wasn't like Quatre to be so indecisive.

"I just think that… right now, your focus is on that and _my_ focus is on running Winner Inc. I live in L4 and I only get to see you for a few months every year. Surely you want – surely you _need_ more than that."

"You could move to Earth," Trowa pointed out, ignoring the sharp stab of pain from Quatre's unspoken suggestion that _Trowa_ wasn't enough for _him_.

"_You_ could stop working for the Preventers," Quatre argued.

"And do what?" Trowa asked. He leaned back and crossed his arms.

The movement had Quatre looking around the restaurant to make sure no one was paying attention to Trowa's posture.

"You could do anything you wanted to do, Trowa. You could work for me. I could find you a job –"

Trowa shook his head. He had always admired Quatre's generosity, but it never ceased to frustrate him when Quatre tried to _give_ him things. Things like a car or a home or a job – countless jobs by now – working for him.

"No. I have commitments to the Preventers and to Une."

Quatre actually rolled his eyes at that.

"Une has other agents. She has Wufei and Heero, even. She doesn't need you – you can leave."

Trowa knew – he _hoped_ – that Quatre hadn't meant that quite like it sounded.

He held Quatre's gaze, trying to figure out what he wasn't saying and what he really meant.

They had argued about Trowa's work for years by this point, because Quatre insisted that he – that they all – had done their time and deserved to live lives free from war. Trowa, on the other hand, simply didn't trust humanity enough to let the peace that he had bled for and that good men had died for, fall apart while he turned his back on it.

But as much as Quatre hated that Trowa didn't trust humanity as much as he did, there was no way the blonde would break up with him over it. There had to be something else.

He knew it wasn't the sex – because even though it was infrequent Quatre had never had reason to complain and in fact Trowa made sure he had every reason to always be complimentary.

Trowa's attention was drawn to Quatre's fingers, nervously drumming on the table top. The short nails were ragged, as though Quatre had been biting them.

It was a habit Trowa had first noticed the other man engage in during the war, whenever he felt guilty over something and yet didn't – or couldn't – accept blame.

Trowa looked back up to Quatre's eyes, and now that he was looking for it, Quatre did look guilty and even a little nervous.

"You've met someone else."

Quatre bit his lip and looked down and Trowa felt a weight settle in his chest, making it hard to breathe.

"I never expected this to happen," Quatre whispered. "I'm so very sorry, Trowa, but – I love him. And he loves me. He _told_ me that he loves me."

The words were like bullets, cutting into Trowa's skin and lodging in his heart.

Trowa had never been able to tell Quatre that he loved him – partly because he wasn't entirely sure he did, but mostly because he didn't want to tempt fate by admitting how much he cared for the other man.

"Who is he?"

"No one you know. I'm sorry, Trowa. But I really do think this is for the best."

Quatre reached across the table and held out his hand, waiting for Trowa to accept the gesture and the apology.

"Then I wish you every happiness," Trowa managed to say in an even tone before he stood up and walked away.

* * *

The next morning Trowa returned to work at Preventers Headquarters.

He had been on vacation the entire previous week, spending as much time with Quatre as he could while still reviewing intelligence reports for Une, and it felt good to be back in the military building, surrounded by routine and uniforms.

There was no place for emotion here – no anger or regret, and certainly no self-pity.

Trowa put all thoughts of Quatre into a box and shoved it to the very back of his mind and focused all of his energy on work.

After all, just because his boyfriend had broken up with him, that didn't mean that the myriad of terrorist organizations it the Earthsphere would take some time off so he could decompress.

Trowa reported to Une's office for the weekly briefing at noon. Usually Wufei and Heero were in attendance as well, and together the four of them discussed the most dangerous threats Preventers faced and updated each other on their recent missions.

Heero, partly because of his promise to never kill again, spent the majority of his time in Brussels analyzing intelligence and planning out missions for other agents.

Wufei was one of the highest ranked 'official' Preventers, meaning that most of his missions required that he wear his uniform and remind everyone that the Preventers were a strong presence.

Trowa, on the other hand, handled most of the more complicated covert missions. He worked with Heero to plan them and then executed them on his own, because neither he nor Heero had much faith in the newly recruited agents and their abilities to keep pace with Trowa.

As a result, the three former Gundam pilots were Une's most trusted and capable agents, and their heavy workloads reflected both Une's faith and their own necessity.

It was part of the routine, and they had spent the last seven years carefully honing their skills and strategies to perfection.

This afternoon, however, the routine was wrecked when Trowa walked into Une's office and found Duo Maxwell sitting at the conference table beside Heero.

He hadn't seen Duo in years – not since he, Quatre, and Duo had destroyed their Gundams after the Mariemaia incident – but it was impossible not to recognize the other man.

Duo's long braid of hair was still his defining feature, and his bright indigo eyes were still mischievous. His face had changed, the angles becoming sharper as he aged, and he had put on weight and height. He no longer looked like an androgynous teenager, but a lean, hardened man.

Trowa found himself wondering, for the first time, where Duo had been all these years.

He knew that Heero had kept in touch with him – every once in a while he would make some throw away comment about Duo's opinion on something (usually something mechanical or aeronautical) – but he had no idea where Duo had been or what he had been doing.

"Heya!" Duo greeted him with a broad grin. "Long time no see, buddy."

Trowa had to arch an eyebrow at that.

They were far from enemies, but Trowa had never considered himself a _buddy_ of Duo's.

He took his normal seat, and after a moment Duo's grin faded slightly and he looked over at Heero and rolled his eyes.

Trowa resented the gesture, but he kept silence. He had learned during the wars that silence was the best weapon to use against Maxwell.

Wufei, on the other hand, had never bothered to learn that lesson.

When he entered the room a moment later his gaze latched onto Duo and he scowled in anger.

"You're alive."

Duo chuckled.

"Four out of five experts agree on it," he joked.

Heero's lips twitched upwards slightly but Wufei snarled.

Trowa had no idea what Wufei's antipathy towards Duo was rooted in, but he had been actively hostile towards him during both wars and if Heero _did_ mention Duo in his hearing Wufei always had some snide remark to make about him.

"And you decided to grace us with your presence."

"Well it's just that I missed you _soooo_ much," Duo said in a sickly sweet tone.

Wufei looked ready to launch into a tirade, but Une mercifully entered and took her seat at the head of the conference table.

"Recent intelligence suggests that Relicum Enterprises might be a hostile force," Une began the briefing without bothering to explain Duo's presence.

Trowa was vaguely familiar with Relicum Enterprises – he had heard Quatre mention the company a few times in recent months – but he had no idea what they actually did.

"They are based in the L1 sector, but have offices in all colony sectors, the Moon, and the Earth. We have very scattered intelligence pertaining to weapons development, specifically AI weapons."

"Targeting who?" Trowa asked.

"We don't know," Heero said. "We don't even know _if_ they are developing the weapons – right now everything is just rumors."

"Why is _he_ here?" Wufei asked with a gesture in Duo's direction. "If this is a classified mission briefing shouldn't the _civilian_ wait outside?"

Duo actually grinned at Wufei, and the expression vividly reminded Trowa of Duo when he had been a sixteen year old terrorist. Duo leaned back and folded his hands behind his head, and in Trowa's mind the transformation was almost complete – all he was missing were his ridiculous black jodhpurs and his dog collar.

"Duo Maxwell is _part_ of the mission," Une said in a voice suggesting that she had prepared herself for a fight with Wufei "Maxwell will approach Relicum and offer his services as an engineer in order to gain entry and –"

"Do you really think that _anyone_ is stupid enough to believe that _he_ is some kind of…physicist or mechanical engineer?" Wufei demanded.

"Systems Engineer," Duo corrected idly, his hands still laced behind his head and a bored expression on his face.

"Whatever – there's no way anyone would think you were a _systems engineer_ and actually hire you in the first place."

"Well, I am and they did."

Trowa frowned at that.

"You are what?" he asked.

"A systems engineer. They call me _Doctor_ Maxwell these days."

Trowa looked over at Heero, but the other man's expression betrayed no surprise or amusement.

"_How_ did _you_ –" Wufei started, his face actually red.

"It's amazing the degrees they hand out over the internet," Duo said with a shit eating grin as he finally sat up in his chair.

Wufei turned to Une.

"Commander, you cannot seriously be –"

"Duo has spent the last six years studying at MIT," Une interrupted Wufei midsentence. "And while he _did_ take a few online courses to finish his bachelor's degree, I assure you that his doctorate is genuine."

Trowa couldn't help but be a little impressed. He had always respected Duo's intelligence – and he was certainly a gifted mechanic and pilot – but he had never thought the other man would be capable of that kind of dedicated study and research.

"That doesn't change the fact that his face was broadcast over the news during the first war," Trowa had to add. "We can't sit back and _hope_ people don't recognize him."

"Actually, we're counting on that," Heero said. "If this company really is into armament then they'll _want_ Duo Maxwell. Duo's always been kind of a wild card – during the first war he was approached repeatedly by terrorist organizations, including White Fang. Even since the war we've had to keep him under surveillance and protection because he remains of interest to organizations looking for a rallying point. He's the perfect bait for Relicum."

Trowa felt all of his arguments against this mission start to fall apart. If _Heero _was on board, and he and Une had clearly put a great deal of thought into this, then there was no way that Trowa would be able to convince them that the mission was a bad idea. And Wufei certainly wasn't helping matters.

"And you're going in with him?" Trowa asked. Heero didn't usually go on undercover missions, even when he did operate in the field, but Trowa didn't see how Heero would allow his friend to ride off into danger alone.

"No, _I'm_ too well known, and not in the way that would help us," Heero said. He held Trowa's gaze, and he suddenly had a very bad feeling about things. "_You_ are going in with him."

Trowa immediately looked at Une, but the firm set of her mouth and the hostile look in her eyes made it clear she was not willing to negotiate this.

It wasn't that Trowa hated Duo – certainly not as much as Wufei seemed to – he just didn't like him. At all.

"So Maxwell plays himself… who am _I_ supposed to be?" Trowa asked.

Duo grinned broadly.

"Trophy wife. Sorry – trophy _husband_."

Trowa immediately bit back the first five responses he had to that and glared at Duo.

"I fail to see how such a role would be an asset to the mission," he finally bit out.

"And I still fail to see how _Maxwell_ is an asset to the mission," Wufei added. "He's reckless, impatient, idiotic, self – obsessed, b –"

"Blessed with perfect hearing?" Duo interjected. "Not that I need it with you shouting your opinions. Look, _you_ don't have to come along, so chill _out_."

Wufei glared at Duo and jerked a thumb in Trowa's direction.

"But he _has_ to and _he_ is competent and a decent human being. I'm concerned for his sake."

Trowa arched an eyebrow as he turned to look at Wufei.

The two of them were partnered together a fair amount – Wufei flat out refused to work with any other Preventers aside from Trowa and Heero – and he knew that the other man didn't think he was an idiot, but Trowa had been unaware that Wufei considered him a decent human being.

"Don't be," Duo sighed. "I'll make sure your little Tro-toy is returned in tip-top shape. No scratches – I promise."

Trowa looked over at Heero, wondering not for the first time _why_ the former Wing pilot put up with Duo.

"Wufei," Heero said, diverting the angry man's attention. "Duo knows what he's doing."

"He isn't even an agent," Trowa felt the need to point out.

Duo smirked and reached into a pocket of his jacket and tossed a badge on the table. The same badge that Wufei, Heero, and Trowa carried.

"Am too," Duo said.

Trowa resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead looked at Une.

"What exactly is my job during this mission? Am I just there to babysit him?"

"No," Une answered before Duo could. "Maxwell will be the point agent for intel collection on this mission, but I need you to make sure he stays alive _and_ engage in more… covert intelligence gathering operations while Maxwell goes the direct route."

"Then why don't we go in separately?" Trowa asked.

"Because Maxwell is _not_ a field agent and because _that_ is the mission," Une said shortly.

Trowa looked over at Duo, and the braided man smiled.

"Come on, you _know_ it's going to be fun. Just like old times."

Trowa had no idea _what_ old times Duo was remembering – but _he_ didn't remember having much fun, especially not with Duo.

* * *

TBC…


End file.
